She drifts in from the sea

to wrap herself around me,

a soft cool shroud concealing me

from the world I shun.

She loses me in silver haze

but keeps me safe

from prying eyes

of those who seek to do me harm.

There are times

when she is cruel

as when she caused my ship to founder

upon the rocky shore,

then let me wander aimlessly

into places I should not go.

She can be cold and unforgiving

of the mistakes I might have made.

Will I ever find my way

back to the light of day?

Will I ever lift her veil

and walk into the future

where the sun doth shine

brightly and hopefully?

Alas, like a fly caught in a spider’s web,

I cannot leave her,

my Lady Fog so dear.

I have not the courage

to return from whence I came.

I live instead within her shroud

forever as a ghost

drifting slowly from the sea.

Vi Jones

©October 25, 2006


About woodnymph

I am an author, poet, and digital photographer.

Posted on September 8, 2007, in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. I adore mists and things like this being explored. Great to see them put to lyrical words of mystery in the Abbey, Vi.

  2. You make that which I fear comforting. Fran

  3. Thank you to whoever posted my poem here.

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